Teach Me
by Are-san
Summary: Spoilers for Human Noble players. Aarin Cousland is a rogue, a duelist, an assassin. Not a hero. Maybe that's why she fell in love with the elven assassin, rather than the Templar prince. Rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Alone, finally alone.

She'd been a noble before, and she'd never fit with that crowd, never had she been able to play the games that a lady was supposed to play.

She'd been born a rogue, she was sure of it. She could think of no other way for her to be. She hadn't grown her hair out, though it was dark and lustrous and every told her it would be beautiful long, she'd kept it short, convenient. She'd spent most of her time alone, choosing not to spend her time with those who would scorn her practices. She'd enjoyed the solitude, wandering through the halls of her home, silent as a shadow. No one could detect her presence.

The attack, her family's death. Her brother was the only one who remained other than herself. But she couldn't mourn, not yet. Not until the Blight was over, not until she was finished pretending to be a hero.

Becoming a Grey Warden had seemed like a good idea, a chance to escape, to be herself. Grey Wardens wouldn't judge and disapprove of her methods. But when her and Alistair were thrust into the position they were... Well it was time to start pretending. Pretending that she could carry the responsibility alone, that saving everything and everyone was nothing out of the normal. She had to pretend to be compassionate and kind and sweet. She could be, but her instinct was to get things done, and then forget about it. But no one forgot what she did, every little task was remembered, kept, like a sparkling gem that the owner was reluctant to let go of. The gems were beginning to pile up, and their value was considerably more than she thought she was worth.

She didn't care about money, so if she did something for someone, she didn't ask for it. She didn't bother getting into needless fights. Her silver tongue could convince even the most stubborn to lay down their arms. She fought well when she had to, and she enjoyed it. But she battled with wit and cunning, circling around her enemy to take them down in a single,, unpredicted stab with a thin blade. She was a rogue, and she was an assassin. She didn't mind killing without warning, without honor. She had her own kind of honor, and that was getting her job done whatever the cost.

"You enjoy wandering off like this, don't you? I sometimes wonder if you are coming back..." That accent, it charmed her every time she heard it. She'd sensed him coming, of course she had, but it didn't matter to her if he was here. His company was the only company she preferred to her own.

"Zev... How is it that you always know where to find me?" she asked, smiling wryly. "It's almost as if you have a sixth sense for finding me."

The Antivan elf just shrugged. "I think of where I would go, if I wanted to be alone. You are usually in the same place I would be." His smile was contagious, his lips as tempting as they always were. He always tempted her, from the moment she'd taken the time to look at him, laying on the ground at her feet, charming her into letting him live. Even in such a position he had not begged for his life, he'd simply asked for it. And how could she resist such a request as that?

"We do think alike, don't we?" she said, leaning back against the thick trunk of a tree.

"I think we are alike in many ways. It that not so?" He walked in closer, ever closer, and always the air was charged between them, thick with something that was akin to lust but that was so much more.

"The others would like to forget the parts of me that are like you." The assassin, the rogue, the non-hero.

"The others do not see you as I do."

"Naked on the floor of my tent? I assure you, they have all thought of it." she laughed, and it was so easy to laugh with him.

"Oh, I do not doubt that you are everyone's fantasy. The lovely Leliana in particular is very eager to show you her "affection"." His easy smiled widened into a grin. Jealousy was never a concern between them. After all, they both knew that they would come back to the other in the end."I meant that I see the parts of you that the others do not accept. The, how should I say? The darker parts of you."

"The parts of me that are not governed by my duties as a Grey Warden."

"Exactly."

They were so close now, standing just a hair's breadth apart, and the thickness of the air threatened to choke her. Her hands reached out automatically to touch, to grip his shoulders. her hands fit there, fit on him, as if her hands were the missing piece of him that only she could fill.

At the same time his hands had moved to cup her waist, where his hands fit in exactly the same way. He'd tried to kill her when they first met, and she had spared his life. What if she hadn't, what if she'd killed him? She would have missed out on this perfect fit, this perfect understanding, this complete perfection that was their interaction. And then what would she do?

"You know... all of me, Zevran. And the fact that you still want me never ceases to amaze." she murmured, leaning slightly down, so her mouth was next to his ear.

"There is nothing about you that I do not want. Even the side of you that is truly the hero the others portray you as. That woman, who saves all of us again and again, she truly exists inside you."

"Does she? I cannot help thinking that it's all just a game of pretend."

"She exists. And she is just as glorious and beautiful and dangerous as the rest of you." His smile was wicked and his lips on her neck were soft and hot. Such a wonderful and familiar sensation.

She turned her face just a little away from his, a thought straying into her mind that never failed to dampen her mood. He did not accept the part of her that loved him. That was the one thing he could not understand. And that hurt so much more that anything else...

"You spoke to me of love, once." he whispered, the words caressing her ear, soft and tender and warm, making her shiver. He truly could sense her thoughts. "I told you the truth when I said I knew nothing of it." he slid his arms around her, pressing their bodies together, because that too, was a missing piece that only they could complete together. "I wonder... If you will teach me... Aarin."

Her breath caught, trapped in her throat, along with her fluttering heart. _Her name_, her name sounded so sweet on his lips, so completely _right_.

"Teach me to love you, and I will, with everything that I am capable of." his words seemed to break something inside her, like a barrier that had finally been breached. Her lips on his were as desperate as they were tender and the tears in her eyes seemed to well up from deep inside her.

"I will. I will show you. And if you can love me than that is all that I could ever ask." she whispered into his mouth, cupping his face in her hand. His hand moved to cup hers as well, their fingers tracing over the tattoos on their faces. They matched, even in this. the same crisp black swirls under their eyes. How could anything be this right?

"Come." he murmured. "Let us find somewhere quiet and warm. I would prefer to see your body lit by candles, on an altar, like the goddess you are."

"Well then you'd best lay on the altar with me, because I will not let go."

-//-


	2. Chapter 2

They'd been walked in on a few times. It was unavoidable in a small camp. Especially when you spent as much time ravishing each other as the two assassins did. Alistair had been too stunned to speak for at least a week after he'd walked into their tent without warning one night. Leliana had also ended up running out of the campsite blushing when she was looking for Aarin one night. Even Sten wandered in one night, though he, of course, became more interested in the mechanics of the act upon witnessing.

"Since the woman is the leader here, should she not be the one on top?"

"We like to take turns. It adds to the fun, no?"

How could she not laugh at that?

Eventually everyone stopped coming by her tent once the sun went down. She didn't bother to inform them of the rare nights that she spent alone, as she enjoyed the solitude. And Zevran would likely show up later anyway.

She didn't fool herself into thinking that they'd started as most couples did, with attraction and affection. Attraction, yes. There had always been a lot of that. Affection? Well, she'd never been the demonstrative sort... And he had taught her to be an assassin.

The basis of their entire relationship was sex, without any attachments or worries, just simple pleasure. And there was so much pleasure to be had... Both were talented lovers of the highest degree, neither caring about boundaries, such as gender. Aarin had had lovers that were both men and women and had enjoyed both. Zevran was the same. They were both regular patrons of The Pearl, whenever they were in Denerim. But neither enjoyed the act of sex as much as when they were together.

The lust was explosive, sparking between them in licks of heat like flames. The moment they touched it became inevitable, they would bed each other, there was no way around it. At times it was incredible to her that the others couldn't see the flares of desire between them. It was never like this with the rest of them. Though she'd expressed an interest in Alistair for awhile, and Leliana had made her intentions very clear, she'd never felt that same _need. _

-//-

She'd made Alistair king... He hadn't been happy about it, but that's what she had done. How could she put a woman like Anora on the throne? Or worse yet, make her marry Alistair! No, she wouldn't do that, and although he might not like it, Alistair was the best choice for the throne. He was angry with her afterwards, and things were tense enough between them after he'd forced her to choose between him and Zevran.

She'd chosen Zevran over him, they couldn't look each other in the eye anymore.

Then she'd learned how you kill an Archdemon... And her world had turned upside down. She'd just made Alistair king, so of course he could not be the one to strike the violent blow. Riordan had said it should be him, but a kind of dark sense of premonition told her that she could not hope for that to work out. She'd begun to resign herself to sacrificing her life when she'd met Morrigan in her rooms and the witch had given her an alternative.

She had to take the chance, the chance that they all could survive this, she just had to. It hadn't been easy to talk Alistair into laying with Morrigan, especially with the tension still swirling between them. But he'd understood that he needed to trust her.

She went to Zevran that night, and told him everything that she'd learned, everything that could happen. The thought that she could, and probably would, die tomorrow, had added a note of desperation to the charge between them. If they were never to see each other again, they had to make the most of what little time they had. Making love to Zevran that night had been the most beautiful thing she'd ever experienced, and she held that moment in her heart as she'd stepped onto the battlefield.

After that everything had seemed rushed, time flew by before she could get a grip on it. Then everything froze the moment she thrust her sword into the archdemon's head. She'd half expected Morrigan's ritual not to work, waiting for pain, for death, for anything. But there was nothing. Everything was suddenly quiet. And in a breathless moment, it was over, the darkspawn fled and she was now the hero of Fereldan. A Hero. And here she'd hoped that label would somehow disappear. But it didn't, even through alistair's coronation, when the world had much more important things to focus on, there was still a crowd waiting outside to catch a glimpse of her.

She'd told Alistair that she wanted to leave, to travel. And that was the undeniable truth. She didn't want anything more than to just leave, to be herself for awhile. But she wouldn't leave without Zevran. When he agreed to travel with her, her heart had swelled with emotions she couldn't quite name.

-//-

Traveling together, being together, was the easiest thing in the world. Nothing could feel more natural or right. She smiled to herself, hand reaching up to play with the gold hoop earring that she never took off. It didn't bother her where it had come from, it was a gift from Zevran, she didn't need anything more than that. He was slowly growing used to the idea that he loved her, though it was a difficult concept for the both of them. Wandering the world with no real goal in mind, it suited them, and it only made their hearts grow closer.

They never ran out of things to talk about, there were always new stories, and new conversations. Sometimes they were serious, but more often they weren't. And their hearted grew closer together as each day passed.

But there must always be trouble in paradise.

-//-

"Zevran?" She murmured, eyes dark, expression solemn.

"I have not seen that look on your face since you slayed an archdemon." he answered her, frowning slightly.

"This may be more frightening than any demon..." she whispered, voice breaking, eyes widening in obvious fear.

He was on his feet in a moment, hands holding her shoulders urgently. "What is it?"

She took a shaking breath, licking her dry lips. "I ... I have been ill for the past few mornings..."

It took a moment, but his eyes went wide and his hands on her began to tremble. "You don't mean...?"

She bit her lip, clinging to him. "There is no other explanation..."

He pulled her back into a chair, stunned, unable to speak for several moments. "You are sure?"

"Almost positive. Otherwise I would not have said anything.... I-I am pregnant." she spoke the words with a trembling voice, unable to believe what she was saying.

A half-elf child? Neither had ever heard of such a thing. But, then again, neither of them had heard of couples like the two of them. Humans had sex with elves, elves had sex with humans, but the relationships rarely ran as deeply or as long as theirs did. She put a hand on her stomach, looking at him desperately, wishing this was a dream. They were assassins, not parents!

"What should we do?" she asked, looking at him, despite knowing that he was just as confused as she was.

"W-we should head back to Denerim, and talk to Alistair." he murmured slowly. "Our friends... Will want to know."

Her mind seemed to clear a little, listening to him. He was right, their friends would want to know. Because this was a happy occasion. A miracle, really.

"Yes. Denerim. But... We'll need to stop traveling for awhile. A few years at least, until the child is old enough."

"Until _our _child is old enough, we will raise him or her in Denerim." Zevran stated decisively. "If we stay there, with your reputation and Alistair's protection, we should be able to raise our family in some peace."

"Family... Our family.I never thought I would hear those words from your lips." A slow smile spread across her lips. "We're going to have a family, a child. Us. who would've thought?"

Zevran laughed quietly. "Indeed, I'm still having trouble thinking of it." he teased lightly.

"So... Off to Denerim, then?"

-//-

"What do you mean you're pregnant?!" Alistair looked distraught, almost panicked. "But-But.... How?!"

"Well, Alistair, when a man and a woman love each other..."

"I know HOW! I mean how can you be sure?"

"I had a mage examine me when we got back, she said there isn't any doubt. There are two life-forces within me, I'm going to have a baby."

Alistair looked just as stunned as Zevran had, and the elf snickered a bit at the familiar expression. "So... Zevran is the father then."

"No, Alistair. I was involved in an orgy and the father could be any number of men, including a quanari and a dwarf..." she said dryly, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. I get it. It's just... unusual."

"I know. But it's the truth. And I'm starting to think this is a good thing." she smiled, and she already seemed to wear a light glow.

Zevran came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and petting her stomach tenderly. "It is a good thing. A beautiful thing."

"Ugh." Alistair grunted. "Don't you two start getting all disgusting and lovey-dovey on me. That's never been the way you work before."

Aarin laughed. "You're right. We're turning into an old married couple and the child is barely even been conceived yet!"

"So, Alistair, you would prefer if we were our normal selves?" the elf asked cheekily, hands sliding provacatively down Aarin's hips and legs.

"No! Stop it!" the young king barked, blushing lightly. "Be mushy and parental! I like that just fine!"

They laughed together. Alistair's virginal reactions never got old.


End file.
